The Alpha Surrogate Luna

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Gloria POV

William tore Julian's hand off me before I could react, his golden eyes gone hard as stone as he warned his son off in front of the entire vanguard. The sudden, violent movement sent Julian stumbling backward across the loose gravel.

"Touch her again," William said, his voice dropping into a low, deadly register that vibrated through the floorstones, "and you will lose that hand."

Julian's breath hitched as he caught his balance, clutching his bruised wrist. He looked around at the hundreds of warriors watching him, their faces frozen in shock, before his glaring eyes snapped back to his father.

"She sabotaged it," Julian yelled, pointing a shaking finger directly at my face. "You are protecting a traitor, Father! She did something to the magic!"

"The Sorensen emblem does not respond to lies, Julian," William replied calmly, stepping fully between us so his massive shoulders completely blocked Julian's view of me. "You brought a cold piece of iron into this courtyard, claimed you could command our armies, and failed in front of every commander in this kingdom. The disgrace here is entirely your own."

"She is my ex-girlfriend!" Julian shouted, his voice cracking with absolute desperation as the nobles began to murmur among themselves. "She belongs in the borderlands! Why are you keeping her in your private wing?"

Elder Malaki leaned forward on his iron staff from the shadows of the stone archway, his blind, milky eyes fixed on the spectacle. "That is enough, Prince Julian. The vanguard has seen what it came to see. Return the crest to the vault and clear the grounds."

Julian backed away, humiliated, but the look he gave* me promised this was far from over. He spat on the ground near William's boots, shoved the cold emblem into his leather tunic, and turned on his heel to march out of the courtyard. The crowd of high-ranking officers slowly parted for him in complete silence, nobody daring to make eye contact with the fallen prince.

William did not look back at his son. He turned toward me, his expression softening just enough for me to see the deep tiredness in his features. He reached out, gently taking my wrist where Julian had grabbed it, checking my skin for bruises.

"Did he hurt you, Gloria?" he asked softly, his large thumb brushing over my pulse point.

"No," I whispered, taking a deep breath to steady my racing heart. "I am fine, William."

"Good," he said, turning back to face the remaining council members. "Martha, escort her back to my chambers immediately. Double the guards at the entrance of the private wing."

Martha stepped out from behind the pillar, her sharp eyes scanning the dispersing crowd as she bowed her head. "Right away, Your Grace."

She guided me through the inner corridors, her hand resting firmly near the hilt of her dagger. The stone hallways felt colder than usual, echoes of whispered gossip bouncing off the walls whenever servants caught sight of us. Everyone was talking about what happened at the vanguard assembly, wondering how a disgraced girl from the borderlands could hold more power over the military crest than the Alpha Prince.

When we finally reached the high wooden doors of the private wing, two heavy guards bowed and opened the way. Martha followed me inside, immediately locking the thick bolts behind us.

"You should rest, Lady Gloria," Martha said, walking over to the fireplace to stir the dying embers. "The court will be in absolute chaos until tomorrow morning."

"Julian is not going to drop this, Martha," I said, leaning against the side of the wooden desk, staring at the empty hearth. "He lost his military standing today. He lost his pride in front of the entire pack."

"He is a foolish boy who relied on stolen power," Martha replied sharply, placing a fresh log into the flames. "He thought taking your family emblem would make him invincible, but he forgot that blood rights cannot be stolen. Lord William will handle him."

"William is sick, Martha," I said softly, keeping my voice low so the guards outside wouldn't hear. "I saw his face when he stepped in front of me. He is forcing his strength."

Martha paused, her hand hovering over the iron poker, but she didn't disagree. She simply blew on the fire until bright orange flames licked up the wood, casting long shadows across the stone room.

"I will fetch your dinner myself tonight," she said, dusting off her apron as she stood up. "Do not open these doors for anyone until I return."

I nodded, watching her unlock the side door and slip out into the hallway. The silence of the private suite wrapped around me like a heavy blanket. I walked over to the tall arched window, looking down into the courtyard below. The guards were still clearing out the training gear, their torches cutting through the dimming evening light.

My mind kept racing back to Julian's eyes when his father pulled him away from me. He looked dangerous, stripped of his royalty, cornered like a wild animal. He had destroyed my family, stolen our crest, and driven my mother to her death, yet he still looked at me as if I were something he owned.

An hour passed before a soft knock sounded at the main door. I walked over slowly, waiting to hear Martha's specific rhythm, but instead, a young boy's voice called out from the small iron grate.

"Dinner tray for Lady Gloria," the voice squeaked.

"Leave it on the table outside," I called back, refusing to unbolt the door.

"Yes, my lady," the servant replied hastily. I heard the heavy bronze tray clatter softly against the wooden bench in the corridor, followed by the quick, shuffling sound of his footsteps fading down the hallway.

I waited a full minute before sliding the heavy iron bolts back, opening the door just wide enough to pull the wooden tray inside. I carried the warm bowl of broth over to the table near the bed, setting it down alongside a small pitcher of water. I sat on the edge of the mattress, pulling my knees up toward my chest as I stared into the dark room.

The palace was quiet now, the heavy night air settling over the capital territory. Somewhere in the main wing, William was likely dealing with the High Council, fighting off Elder Malaki's endless questions about the emblem and the surrogacy agreement.

A sudden, faint scraping noise came from the bottom of the oak entrance door.

I froze, my body going completely still as I locked my eyes on the wooden threshold. The torchlight from the hallway flickered under the narrow gap at the floor. A tiny piece of thick, folded parchment was slowly being pushed through the c***k, sliding across the polished stone until it came to a rest near my boots.

I jumped up, rushing to the door and pulling it open with a sharp jerk. The corridor was completely empty, the long hallway stretching out toward the guard station under the dim glow of wall sconces. The guard who was supposed to be stationed at the corner was nowhere to be seen.

I closed the door, sliding the bolt firmly back into place. I walked back toward the middle of the room, my heart hammering against my ribs as I looked down at the paper.

I bent over and picked up the folded parchment. Pressed directly into the heavy crimson wax sealing the note was the sharp, raised impression of a wolf head holding an arrow, the personal crest of the Alpha Prince.

that night, a servant slipped a note under my door with Julian's seal, demanding I meet him alone.